The Subtle Science and Exact Art of Wizards' Chess
by tehbeh
Summary: R/H Fluff. In their 5th year at Hogwarts, some find the pressure of their studies increasing, and others are just trying to make their mark. Will Ron and Hermione crack under the strain? Is there something deeper beneath their friendship?
1. Chapter One

(Disclaimer:  All the characters herein belong to J.K. Rowling, and various publishing companies.  Would I were that talented, but alas, no.)

A/N: Feedback is greatly appreciated, but this is my first fic, so please be gentle.  Yes, I am aware it is fluff.   

Snow was falling thickly on the lofty roof of Hogwarts Castle, and beyond the walls the whole landscape was carpeted in white, but it was pleasantly warm inside the castle. None of the students could ever figure out why this was so, but if they had asked Hermione, she would have referred them to "Hogwarts: A History" (page 843).  Ron paid no attention to the temperature, or to the enchanting view through the windows that he passed as he wound his way up the maze of stairways to the library. Hermione had not been at dinner, and Ron did not need to ask around if anyone had seen her recently: the library was the only place she would be.  It was a Friday night in December, and most of the school was winding down for the Christmas break, but Professor Snape had scheduled a test for the following Monday, and Hermione was determined not to waste any time in her preparations.

Ron carried an apple in one hand.  He would have liked to bring some of the treacle pudding they had eaten for dessert, which made each student's eyes light up and filled everyone with a warmth which was so satisfying in this weather.  But Hermione could never quite shake the conditioning she received from her dentist parents, and would never enjoy something as sticky as treacle pudding.  Ron would even have liked to bring a wedge of shepherd's pie, but it had been six months since Hermione had vowed never to eat meat again.  Ron thought of the day when Hermione had politely asked Winky if he could leave the meat out of her dinner, and it had been a regular arrangement since then.  At the time, Ron had held his breath, waiting for an onslaught of accusations and ranting like the one that followed Hermione's founding of the Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare, but days turned into weeks, and Hermione said not a thing.  Finally, Ron's curiosity got the better of him, and he asked Hermione why she did not eat meat any more.  Hermione calmly explained that she had made a personal decision not to eat meat, which was based on a desire not to cause pain to animals.  And that was that.  Ron was somewhat puzzled by her explanation, and completely at a loss to explain her uncharacteristic hesitancy to make her point, but part of him was oddly proud that Hermione would give up the great pleasure of shepherd's pie for such a noble reason.

As Ron entered the library, he found Hermione with her head in her hands, facing away from him.  Ron at first wondered if she was asleep, or perhaps crying, but when Ron put the apple gently on the table next to her, she raised her head.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, seeing the look of pain on her face.

"Yes, I'm fine.  No, actually, I've got a wicked headache," responded Hermione.  "I'm just a bit stressed about this potions test, I mean, Snape is likely to throw in anything he can to trip us up, and I don't know how I can manage to cover everything.  Then when my head started hurting, I couldn't concentrate properly, and now I'm more worried than ever."  She propped her head up on her hands again.

Ron stifled a sigh: why did she do this to herself?  Everyone knew that Hermione was the smartest and most diligent student in the grade, so why did she have to keep proving herself?

"Okay" said Ron, turning his attention to the problem at hand.  "Sit up properly.  Now roll your head so that it stretches your neck out.  Good.  Now shrug your shoulders."

Hermione sat silently obeying Ron's instructions, enjoying the relief that they brought.  Finally, when Hermione had shrugged her shoulders and rolled her head enough, Ron began to rub Hermione's neck and shoulders.

Ron talked as Hermione sat receiving his attentions.

"No wonder your aching, Hermione, you're as stiff as a board!" he began.

"Y'know, I'm sure you think I'm a bad person because I don't study enough, but you shouldn't over-do it.  It's just not good for you.  You'll end up a basket case before you know it.  Everyone knows you're the smartest and the best, you know, you don't have to approach each test like it's a battle to the death."

Hermione sat with her head bowed, saying nothing.  Ron's words registered only dimly in her mind, as she became more relaxed than she had been in a long time.  Ron's hands were pleasantly warm and smooth, and she was lulled almost into a trance.  When Ron finally stopped, she lifted her head sleepily.

"Mmm, that was great Ron!  I feel fantastic!" said Hermione.

Ron grinned.  "My Mum gets headaches all the time.  At least, all the time that Fred and George are around!  She always says 'it's not all magic that needs a wand!'"

They chuckled together.  At length, Ron left, saying: "I've got to go.  I promised Neville that I'd give him a game of wizards' chess tonight.  Although I don't know why he doesn't give up, I've beaten him twice this week already."  And at that, Ron was gone.

Hermione, revitalised, studied for another hour until she was confident that her knowledge of potions was as good as time would allow.  Reassuring herself that she still had two more days to study, she embarked upon the journey along a maze of passageways and staircases leading back to the Gryffindor tower.  As she went, the words Ron had said to her echoed in her head, as she remembered the touch of his fingertips against her neck.


	2. Chapter Two

(Disclaimer:  All the characters herein belong to J.K. Rowling, and various publishing companies.  Not to me.  I do not intend to give up my day job and I do not intend to infringe copyright or make money from this fic.)  

A/N: The rate at which I update this story is disgracefully slow and I am sorry.  This bit is quite small but there should be another one shortly.

Wizard's chess at Hogwarts is not as popular as Quiddich, by a very long margin, but this year it had taken on a new popularity.  The house competition had been dominated for many years by Ravenclaw, and it was usually the province of bookish, unpopular types.  For this reason, the whole competition is usually ignored and even the dramatic final game attended only by close friends of the finalists and a couple of teachers.  This year, however, Ron Weasley of Gryffindor had made it to the final, and it looked as though he had a serious chance of winning.  

Harry had long ago given up on the idea of beating Ron at wizard's chess.  Ron and Harry played regularly, but Harry had only managed to beat Ron once in four and a half years they had been playing together.  Even then, Harry had to concede that he was victorious mainly because they had been playing directly after potions, and the remnants of a failed potion under Ron's fingernails had made his queen, a bishop and several pawns march off the board in protest.  Hermione fared better, for she had been quite adept at muggle chess and had won competitions in the days before she got to Hogwarts, but although Hermione had discipline and logic in spades, she often could not get the pieces to co-operate, and so the risky gambits which Ron played with were out of her reach.  In addition, Ron had an almost uncanny ability to judge how the other player would respond, and this gave him a considerable edge.

The final of the wizards chess competition was always played on the famous 12-foot square board, with pieces almost as large as real figures, and this made it very exciting to watch.  The game was scheduled to begin at three pm on that Saturday, but by 2.40 the seats that had been set out for spectators were all but full.  Many of the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students were bedecked with house scarves and hats, a display of encouragement for the competitors.  Harry had taken a seat in the front row where he could get a good view, and he had already given his best wishes to the nervous looking Ron.  Harry did not save a seat for Hermione; she had been up with the birds to study more for the surprise potions test, and it would be unlike Hermione to take time out for something as frivolous as chess.

The game began sharply at three, and an excited hush descended on the previously chattering room.  Ron was playing as white, so he began, but several moves passed without incident.  The drama built as the pieces moved about the board: an odd dance of threats, defences, and retreats.  The Ravenclaws cheered when Morag's knight smashed one of Ron's pawns, but Ron did not look worried, and the pawn's death was swiftly avenged with a rook and a bishop.   Morag began to turn the situation around by destroying one of Ron's knights, but then Ron took out three seemingly inconsequential pawns, leaving Morag's end of the board looking a little bit vulnerable. Attack and defense, check and counter check followed as both sides suffered heavy casualties and the wreckage mounted up around the sides of the board.  Gryffindors began to bite their fingernails as it looked as though Morag had gained the upper hand, and Ron seemed to be bunching all his pieces in one corner of the board.  Morag's army were closing in when Ron pulled off a brilliantly bold move with a queen and a bishop, putting Morag's king in checkmate in three more moves.  Harry grinned, thinking that only Ron could slip a Wronski feint into wizard's chess.  Gryffindor cheered ecstatically as the king's sword fell to the ground with a sonorous clang.

Ron looked around as the students and the professors clapped and cheered, the Ravenclaws clapping even as they consoled their defeated champion.  Ron and Morag shook hands with a genuine warmth, each recognising a worthy opponent,  and Colin Creevey took numerous photographs.  It seemed like minutes later that Ron spotted Hermione, up the back behind a bunch of Ravenclaws.  She was wearing a red and yellow striped Gryffindor scarf, and carrying several potions books under one arm, trying to clap the other hand against the topmost book.  Hermione had evidently arrived too late to get a seat near the front, but Ron felt even prouder than he had previously, just knowing that Hermione had witnessed his great victory.  When Hermione managed to make her way to the front of the crowd, it became apparent that she had not missed any of the action, as she praised every thrill and gambit of the match.  Although it may not have been apparent to all who stood around the hall that day, a close observer would have noted that Ron's ears had turned a pronounced shade of pink.


	3. Chapter Three

(Disclaimer: All characters herein belong to J.K. Rowling and to various publishing companies. No infringement of copyright is intended.)

A/N: I know that no promises I make about updating will ever be believed again, so I won't make any. I just found this in my email archives and I thought I'd post it. There's a chunk of another chapter which I'd like to finish, but who knows if/when that will happen. Sorry.

* * *

Great celebration followed Ron's victory over Ravenclaw. The Gryffindor common room was alive with wellwishers and butterbeer, and most of the students from every year passed through to congratulate Ron. Ron was understandably swollen with pride, at least to begin with, but after a while he seemed to tire of the crowd and the situation. Only Hermione saw him slip out the door and up the stairs towards the dormitories, and she followed.

To Hermione's surprise, Ron had not disappeared up to the dormitories, but was sitting on the cold stone steps, looking a little weary. Hermione sat beside him.

"Thanks for coming to see the game" Ron began. "I know you're worried about your potions homework. It was really decent of you to come."

"Of course, I had to come!" exclaimed Hermione. "You'd never think of doing homework while Harry was playing Quiddich, would you? There's no way I would have missed that game!"

"Well, I don't need to tell you that I wouldn't miss Quiddich for homework, but what you might do is another question!" Ron quipped, his eyes twinkling, but Hermione responded seriously:

"I've been thinking about what you said last night, Ron, and I want you to know that I don't think you're a bad person because you don't study as much as I do. Heaven knows, I wish I were better at keeping things in balance, but I just can't help it. When I first came here, I was so scared that I'd look like an imbecile because I'd never even seen magic before, let alone done any. I thought if I worked really hard, I might be able to make a go of it. But now, everyone expects me to get top marks, and I feel like I'll be a failure if I don't. So Ron, don't let me make you feel bad about yourself. You're great!"

Hermione finally stopped for breath, and looked over at Ron. Ron sighed.

"You know, Mione, we're not so different. Both of us are trying to live up to a reputation. Except mine's hereditary. I won't ever be good enough to follow my brothers, I'll always be Weasley number six, ordinary, average. I got an owl from Dad this morning, and he was talking about how much unemployment there is these days and how I have to study hard to get ahead, and I just don't think I'll ever amount to anything. Harry's got quiddich, you've got the smartest brain this side of orion, but what have I got? I'm just a nobody." Ron sighed again, looking down at his feet.

"Well, I'm not much of a judge," responded Hermione, "but I'd say you were pretty damn good at wizard's chess!" She smiled, but she felt wounded at the very thought of Ron having such a low opinion of himself. She began again:

"Ron, would you be my friend if I was stupid? If I was as crap at schoolwork as Neville Longbottom?"

Ron snorted at the idea of Hermione blowing things up and mis-mixing her potions. But Neville was still a decent person.

"Yes, of course I would" he responded.

Hermione continued "...and what if I was as ugly as Pansy Parkinson? Would you still be my friend then?"

Ron reflected on this. It was hard to separate Pansy's hideous face from her poisonous personality; she was, after all, a Slytherin through and through. But Ron thought of the teddy bear he had had since he was tiny, whose eyes had fallen out and whose mouth had ripped into a great grimacing gash. Everyone thought his teddy was ghastly, but it was still soft and warm, and Ron still kept in under his bed at the Burrow.

"Yes, but you couldn't be quite that ugly without being horrible, too." Ron replied somewhat petulantly.

"That's not the point." Responded Hermione, coming to her final question. "Would you still be my friend if I had no arms and no legs?"

Ron looked at Hermione in bewilderment. Where was this heading?

"I...think so?" responded Ron.

"Well then" concluded Hermione, "it's time to feel better. Because you're a lot smarter than Neville, you're not nearly as ugly as Pansy (did Ron detect a glimmer of a smile as she said this?), you've got both your arms and your legs, and you've got Harry and me, and we like you just the way you are, so CHEER UP!" Hermione said the last words like a coach preparing a team for a game of quiddich.

Ron grinned. Although, he reflected, Hermione was not going to give him a job, he couldn't help but be cheered by the pep talk.


End file.
